when I speak, I will try
to speak
for everything—
electrons
and traffic jams,
summer heat
and blood pressure—
in the hope that
these things,
likewise, may be
interested
in wearing me—
not like a fine garment
made for
special occasions,
but more like
an apron
worn with casual elegance;
or that billowy smock
made of faded,
worn cotton
kept around
for its comfort
on a hanger in the closet
next to a
half dozen
similar others.